


Mission: Proposal

by funsizedshaw, justanexercise



Series: Til Shaw Do Us Part [1]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-13
Updated: 2015-10-13
Packaged: 2018-04-26 04:08:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4989646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/funsizedshaw/pseuds/funsizedshaw, https://archiveofourown.org/users/justanexercise/pseuds/justanexercise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shaw watches in horror as Reese proposes to Root.</p>
<p>"Caroline Turing. Will you be my wife?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission: Proposal

“What the hell are you doing?” Shaw asks, watching Reese bend down on one knee with a black box in his hands.

“Caroline Turing.” Reese turns to Root and opens up the box, revealing a gorgeous diamond ring. “Will you be my wife?”

Shaw narrows her eyes and turns an accusing stare at Finch. “Harold, what’s he doing?”

“I believe Mr. Reese just proposed.”

Root gapes, staring at the giant engagement ring. She tilts her head to the side, listening to the Machine and smiles. “Well John, it’s about time.”

Rapidly blinking, Shaw shakes her head and rubs her eyes. Nope, eyesight’s fine. Reese is slipping the ring onto Root’s finger. “What the fuck?”

He even has the audacity to give Shaw a cheeky wink, bending down and preparing to press a kiss onto Root’s lips.

No. Way.

Shaw advances on him, hand reaching for her gun.

* * *

“Mr. Rooney and the future Mrs. Rooney,”

The wedding planner, Ashley Thompson, shakes each of their hands, strong enough to make Root lose her balance and tip into Reese.

“Careful dear,” Reese says, placing a secure arm over Root’s shoulder and giving it a loving squeeze.

“Thanks honey.” Root puts on her best love-sick smile.

Thompson gestures to the lavish sofa and sits across from them. She folds her legs, prim and proper.

“You two look so good together,” Thompson coos. “Now, that is one beautiful ring.”

Root puts her hand up, wiggling her fingers. “Isn’t it?”

As Thompson inspects it, her eyes go wide. “That’s a grade D diamond set in platinum.”

“Only the best for her,” Reese says, holding Root closer against him.

Thompson zones in on Reese’s left hand splayed across Root’s shoulder. She lets out the highest pitched squeal that only Bear could probably hear. “His and her rings? That is so darling.”

_“What’s her deal with the rings? She’s a wedding planner, should have seen enough of that shit to last a lifetime.”_

_“Because Ms. Shaw, it’s a one million dollar ring.”_

_“What the hell Finch. How come Root gets a million dollar ring and I’m not allowed to order my DSR 50 Sniper Rifle?”_

_“Well I’m quite sure that Ms Groves isn’t going to maim anyone with her ring.”_

_“Oh I don’t know, Root could probably do it.”_ There’s a faint note of pride in Shaw’s voice and Root smiles as the wedding planner continues to gush.

“First things first, how did you two meet?”

Root cleverly masks the smirk that forms on her face at the question and turns it into another love-sick smile instead. “Well, it’s kind of a funny story really,” she covers her mouth daintily with a hand and giggles. “John’s sister, Sam and me were best friends and roommates in college. And we were really quite the troublemakers. One day, we somehow managed to get ourselves locked out of the dorms. There was no one else around that we could ask for help so Sam decided to climb a tree to get into our room window,” she lets out another high pitched giggle.

“What she didn’t realise was that there was poison ivy growing all over the tree,” Reese adds.

_“Poison ivy? What college would let poison ivy grow on campus?”_

Root ignores Shaw and continues her story. “The poor girl was itching for days. John was nice enough to come down to our dorm to help me take care of his little sister. She’s such a troublesome patient, you know.”

Reese shakes his head with a fond smile. “She definitely is. But over the days that I was there, Caroline and I got to know each other and it was like,” he pauses and gazes into Root’s eyes. “We were just meant to be. I guess it was destiny.”

_“Harold, pass me that trashcan, I think I’m gonna throw up.”_

“Oh sweetie,” Root says to both Reese and Shaw. “That is so…” Root places a hand over her chest and sighs.

_“Disgusting.”_

Thompson mirrors Root and exhales deeply. “Love. I’ve never seen a more compatible pair in all my years.”

“You should’ve seen John propose. Although, if it wasn’t for Sam, I think John might not have gotten it perfect.”

Reese chuckles, patting Root’s hand and entwining their fingers. “Yea, Sam’s the romantic one, but I have my moments.”

_“If by romantic you mean shoving a rifle up your ass when this is over, I’m very romantic.”_

Thompson swoons. “I would really like to meet your sister.”

Root gives her a sickeningly sweet smile. “Oh, I’m sure the two of you would get along very well. Sam just loves weddings, I swear she absolutely bawled after John proposed.” Root discretely winks at the camera Shaw and Finch are sure to be watching through.

_“Hey Harold, is there another Sam on the team I don’t know about?”_

_“No...”_

_“Really? Sounds like there is.”_

Reese and Root share another heartfelt look, at least to Thompson it is. In reality, it’s definitely mischievous.

Clearing his throat, Reese pulls Root impossibly closer, so close she’s practically sitting on his lap. “Sam’s the one who suggested the sky writers.”

“She did? Awww…” Root says. “That sort of literally blew up in her face though didn’t it? I couldn’t even read ‘Would you marry me?’.” Root leans in conspiratorially towards Thompson. “See, Sam’s good at ideas but she’s bad at execution. Well, that’s where John comes in.”

_“Bad at execution? Bad? Who was the one who pulled both your asses out of a burning building under a hail of bullets? Who took out all the -”_

_“Ms. Shaw, please, they are only getting into character.”_

_“Bullshit.”_

Root waggles her eyebrows at Reese. She wins this round.

Reese chuckles. “Her dog however, is a natural. He gave me no trouble when I trained him to run up to Caroline holding a ring in his mouth.”

_“Yea John, give Root a slobbered on ring, that’s totally romantic.”_

“The ring was of course in a basket, a small one that just fit into his mouth,” he adds.

_“Nice save Mr. Reese.”_

There’s a growl on the other end of the line, and Root and Reese look at each other.

_“That was Ms. Shaw. Not Bear, in case you were wondering.”_

Root almost breaks character, and covers it up by leaning into John.

“You know what would be great?” Reese asks, perking up. “If we trained Sam’s dog to be a ring-bearer.”

_“Enjoying yourselves? At least I’ve still got Bear. Ain’t that right boy? … traitor.”_

“What was that again?” Root asks Finch but addresses Thompson.

_“Bear fetched Ms. Shaw a key ring.”_

* * *

Shaw grips the edge of the table tightly as she glares at the computer screens in front of her. Root and Reese are at their food tasting session with the number and there is a delectable spread of food laid out in front of them. She can almost smell all of it and her mouth waters.

“You two are taking the mission very seriously huh?” she practically growls.

Reese deliberately picks up a mini quiche and pops it into his mouth. He chews slowly before swallowing and looks at Thompson. “These are delicious.”

Root walks over to him from the other side of the table. “Try the truffled quail eggs honey. They are to die for,” she says as she feeds him one.

Shaw’s grip on the table tightens. “I’ll show you ‘to die for’.”  

“Ms. Shaw, I would prefer my table in one piece, please.”

“And I would prefer to be eating crab cakes Finch. But neither of us is gonna get what we want are we?”

Finch sighs, looking forlornly at his scratched table and turns back to the monitors. He does a double take, noticing what Root and Reese are doing. “Are they-”

“I’m sure she can feed herself Reese,” Shaw snarls.

They ignore her. Root licks her lips daintily and smiles. “I think the Waldorf Salad is tastier.”

Reese takes the same fork from Root’s mouth and spears a few pieces of lettuce into his mouth. He groans appreciatively. “You really have the best taste buds darling.”

“Best taste buds?” Shaw scoffs. “What the hell does that even mean?”

“Excellent choice,” Thompson says, herding them to the next set of dishes.

“Is that…” Shaw trails off, pawing at the monitor.

“This is the chef’s finest piece, a Tre Petite Filet Mignon, the most tender cut of black angus filet mignon medallions,” Thompson says.

Root bites a piece of steak off her fork and immediately lets out a slight moan. “Oh.. this is just,” she closes her eyes. “It just melts in your mouth.”

“Since when did you become a food connoisseur Root,” Shaw shifts in her seat, unable to take her eyes off the monitors. She’s not sure which is worse- not being able to taste that beautiful cut of beef, or listening to Root’s exaggerated moans and knowing that it would be hours before she’d be able to coax such noises out of her. This time for real.

Reese eats a piece of chicken from the other plate and nods his head. “Chicken’s good too.”

“No honey,” Root says, she stabs a piece of beef and slides it into his mouth. “This is better than sex.”

Shaw rolls her eyes. “Yea, maybe sex with John.”

He shoots a look towards the camera at the corner of the room. Carefully chewing for a much longer time, he finally moans out loud. “Better sex than all your partners right?”

“Definitely all of them combined.”

“Are you sure about that Caroline? Better than tasers and handcuffs on Finch’s desk with 24 hours to kill?” Shaw enunciates each word slowly, glancing at Finch out of the corner of her eye.

Finch sputters and jolts away from the desk, staring at it in horror. “Ms. Shaw!” Finch races to the backroom and comes back with bleach and a roll of paper towels. “I expect this carelessness out of Ms. Shaw, but Ms. Groves, there is sensitive equipment on this desk!”

“What do you mean you expect that out of me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

Finch merely holds the bleach and paper towels out, glaring expectantly at her.

“Geez mother. No need to get pissy.” Shaw grabs them from him and starts cleaning the desk. After thoroughly scrubbing what’s not even dirty, Shaw dumps the cleaning supplies and stands behind Finch at the desk.

Finch stands abruptly, blocking Shaw’s view of the monitors. “Ms. Shaw, I think perhaps a second round of bleach is necessary.”

“Harold, it’s clean, believe me. Now what’s going …” Shaw pauses, looking over Finch’s shoulder to see the monitors. “No. Way.”

“Ms. Shaw before you -”

“Did they already eat all the cake?” Shaw hisses, pointing a finger at the empty plates behind Reese and Root.

Tension flows out of Finch, his shoulders relax and he exhales a relieved sigh. “Yes, they did.” He glances back over at the monitor, watching as Root and Reese end their lengthy kiss.

“Let me guess, John chose vanilla.”

“Actually, Mr. Reese favors the carrot.”

“Figures.” Shaw slumps down onto the chair and puts her feet up on the recently cleaned surface of the desk. “And Root?”

“Ms. Groves is adamant about the dark chocolate champagne and red velvet.”

Shaw nods, agreeing with Root’s choices. “Course she would, she’s got better taste now.”

“Sweetie, I really think you should try these again,” Root says, holding up another forkful of cake up to Reese’s mouth. “Say ahhhh.”

“Ahhhh,” Reese obediently says, eating the cake.

Shaw gags violently into the commlink.

To make matters worse, Reese sneaks a glance at the camera and gives Root a light peck on the lips. “You’re right, it does taste better. Only on you though.”

“You guys better bring me back cake for witnessing all this crap.”

Root tilts her head to the side and grins.

Reese and Shaw immediately reach for their sidearms. They know that look, it promises violence and destruction.

“Hold that thought,” Root says to Shaw and pulls out two handguns from her purse.

“Is that a gun?” Thompson squeaks.

“You might want to duck. Actually, get under the table,” Root says, turning away from Thompson.

“I’ll be there in ten minutes,” Shaw says, grabbing a duffel bag full of weapons.

“No need sweetie, we’ll be done soon. John, tip that cake over in twenty seconds.”

* * *

Half an hour later, Shaw is in a corner of the subway cleaning her guns. She’d gotten up from the desk after the monitors went dark from a stray bullet hitting one of the cameras. Besides, the goons coming to kill their number were no match for Reese and Root.

She has still been listening to them through the headset though, and hears the footsteps echoing at the entrance of the subway before Reese appears. His very expensive suit is covered in frosting, and he shifts uneasily at the sight of Shaw handling her guns.

She narrows her eyes at him. “Where’s my cake?” She looks around him. “Where’s Root?”

“Here sweetie,” Root walks in behind him. She’s holding a large box in her hand. It’s white and topped with a pink bow. She sidles up to Shaw and sets the box down on the table beside her. “A little gift for you.”

“Wha-” Shaw hesitates for a moment before tugging the bow off and opening the box. Inside, sits a beautiful dark chocolate champagne cake, topped with swirls of chocolate frosting. Big juicy chocolate dipped strawberries line the edges. Shaw’s eyes widen and she immediately reaches into the box. Before she can attack the cake though, a slender hand reaches out to stop her. Shaw instantly glares up at Root.

Root merely smiles and hands her a fork. “I like you messy but not this messy.”

Shaw digs in, stuffing her mouth with cake and groans. Oh yea, definitely better than tasteless carrot cake Reese would’ve brought her.

“You going to share?” Root asks, leaning over the box.

Shaw pulls the box into her arms and shields it from Root. “No,” she says through a mouthful of cake.

* * *

 

Reese stuffs his dirty suit into a laundry bag and buttons up his spare suit. He glances at Finch who once again averts his gaze.

“Something wrong Finch?”

Finch stops typing and gives Reese a pointed look. “Was it absolutely necessary to kiss Ms. Groves?”

“It was for the mission,” Reese says, shrugging. “Besides, she’s a good kisser.”

Turning back to his computer, Finch shakes his head. “I will ignore your salient attempts to antagonize Ms. Shaw. But be advised she has indeed purchased her coveted DSR 50 Sniper Rifle.”

“Duly noted Finch.” Reese hoists the bag of laundry over his shoulders and opens the subway car door. He freezes mid-step out when he hears Shaw’s low seductive voice.

“John was right, it does taste better on you.”

He slams the door shut. “I think I might stay here for an hour.”

“Make that a few hours John!” Root yells loud enough for it to be heard even through the thick walls.


End file.
